


Merry Company

by cygnes



Category: In Bruges (2008)
Genre: M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 21:21:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8912422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cygnes/pseuds/cygnes
Summary: “A gay beer for my gay friend,” Ray says, which Ken doesn’t think is quite fair, since Ray knows full well he’s bisexual.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scioscribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scioscribe/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文 available: [【翻译】Merry Company](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11220465) by [liangdeyu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liangdeyu/pseuds/liangdeyu)



> Ostensibly there is oral sex going on in this fic, but it’s mainly dubious banter. The title is a reference to a sub-genre of 17th century Dutch painting (which sometimes included brothel scenes), because I’m a pretentious son of a bitch. Warning for prostitution, mention of murder, some homophobia, general crassness.
> 
> Originally posted [here](http://manzanas-amargas.tumblr.com/post/154681557400/fic-merry-company) on tumblr.

Ken doesn’t care to tell Harry exactly how he met Ray, and he knows damn well that Ray isn’t going to tell Harry, so that settles that. The fact is that they’re both a little embarrassed by it. As far as Harry knows, Ray is a friend’s friend’s son or something like that. Friend of the family, more like. Someone Ken has known a long time and trusts implicitly. This is perhaps gilding the lily, all things considered.

“I’m not taking it up the ass” is the first thing Ray says when they’re alone together.

“Well, and who said you were?” Ken says. He’s a little offended by the implication that he must want that specific kind of sex, since he’s after sex with a man.

“Just wanted to get that out of the way,” Ray says. “I know I could probably get more money for that, but I’m not that desperate yet.” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and ducks his head, but then looks up a little defiantly. “And I’m not gay.”

“Neither am I,” Ken says. “I like women, too.” He likes women for different things. He likes women for softness, tenderness, the momentary simulation of emotional connection. He likes men because he doesn’t have to be as careful with them.

“You swing both ways, then?” Ray says. He sounds a little relieved.

“I swing in all directions like a right mad bastard,” Ken says. Ray laughs.  It’s the reaction Ken was hoping for, but it doesn’t exactly break the tension. “Why are you doing this, if you don’t mind my asking?” Ken says. “If you’re not gay.”

“Money, why the fuck do you think?” Ray says sharply. He looks away again. “I’ve got to make rent, and my roommate says it’s easy. Says I’ve got the mouth for it. All I’ve got to do is try not to choke.”

“You’ve got a mouth on you alright,” Ken says, half to himself.

“Listen, if you don’t want to do this, I’ve got to find someone else, don’t I?” Ray says. 

“Settle down, I didn’t say that,” Ken says. The fact of the matter is that he feels a little bad for the young man. He remembers what it was like, being a poor Irishman in London, doing things he didn’t want to. Of course, in his own case, that was killing people instead of sucking cock. But it all comes down to the same thing. They stand there looking at each other for a minute. Finally, Ken says, “I’m not one to tell you how to do your job, but getting on your knees might be a good start.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Ray says, but he does. 

“Might also help to take your glasses off,” Ken says. Ray doesn’t have a smart response to that. 

It looks like things are going to go well for all of about ten seconds, at which point Ray starts talking again. 

“Your cock’s as fat as the rest of you, isn’t it?” he says. He gets down to business, though. He’s not especially good at it, but Ken’s got to give him points for effort and tenacity. He has to pull off twice, gagging, blinking tears from his eyes. Ken tries not to be too rough with him. He tries, but a little roughness is the whole point of the exercise. He finishes with a hand in Ray’s hair and his cock far enough down his throat to choke him. Ray’s a mess when it’s done with. His face is red, there’s saliva all down his chin, his eyes are watering something fierce.

“Splash a little water on your face,” Ken says. 

“They’re all going to know, when I go back out there,” Ray says hoarsely. He swallows a few times, wincing. 

“Of course they’re going to know,” Ken says. “You went into the bathroom with another man. What else are they going to think?”

“I’m going to get the shit kicked out of me,” Ray says.

“Well, you should have thought of that before,” Ken says. Some of the flush is leaving Ray’s face now, but there are still some blotchy red spots. He looks like he’s about to cry. “There must be something else you can do, if this is that bad for you.” Ken has never felt quite as old as he does in this moment, pitying a sad-eyed foul-mouthed young man who he took to the bathroom of a seedy bar mainly because he had a familiar accent.

“I’m working full-time and I’ve got no fucking _skills_ ,” Ray says, tearful and furious. Ken considers this.

“What if I said I could teach you a trade?” Ken says.

“I told you I’m not taking it up the ass,” Ray says.

“Not rough trade, you idiot,” Ken says. “I’m talking about another way to make money.” No more legitimate, and definitely more illegal. Ray seems as ill-suited to be a gangster as he is to be a cocksucker. Still, it might be worth a go. Ray scrubs at his face, wiping his eyes with the face of his hand. He puts his glasses back on.

“Well, alright,” he says. “What’s the job?” 


End file.
